


Awakening

by kcstories



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, community: spn_epific, episode fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-16
Updated: 2008-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2X04 Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things - Angela’s initial reaction to waking up a zombie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for my 2008 Summer Ficathon claim.  
>  **Warnings:** A bit of coarse language.   
> **Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine. Written for fun, not profit.

Her head is throbbing, and her eyelids are heavy. She longs to keep them shut; to slip back into that deep, soothing sleep she has been enveloped in for what feels like forever, but a niggling feeling inside her urges her to awaken soon, for if she doesn’t, bad things will happen, terrible things.   
  
Pain. Death. An overwhelming and never ending darkness.   
  
She hasn’t a clue where she is, but she is oddly relieved the place is quiet, peaceful, and nothing like…   
  
Memories wash over her in a nauseating rush.   
  
Her eyes open wide as she bolts upright in the narrow bed.   
  
Within an instant, she remembers everything that went before, in vivid, excruciating detail.   
  
The crash. The discovery. The argument. _Him_.   
  
Funny how it’s all crystal clear now, though she can’t shake the impression there is more to it than the wisdom of hindsight.   
  
It’s more complicated than that. It’s as though she’s on the outside, looking in; a spectator to the events of the past few months, not someone who lived through them.   
  
Flashes of her life play in her mind’s eye like scenes from a film.   
  
Or a soap opera.   
  
She knows now, with absolute, unmistakable certainty what he did and with whom.   
  
Matt, her boyfriend—the self-proclaimed love of her life—in bed with her roommate.   
  
Cheating son-of-a-bitch.   
  
Looking back, the whole thing was a laughable and disgusting cliché.   
  
She was probably a cliché herself, too. She can’t believe she was so gullible and naïve, not to mention completely blind for never noticing a damn thing.   
  
Pretty typical too, though.   
  
She has always had a penchant for picking the wrong guy. Her friends warned her about that. Even Lindsey mentioned it once.   
  
“You have to be more assertive, stronger, not always give them what they want straight away; not even if it’s what you want, too. They’ll only walk all over you, Angela.”   
  
The bitch had been right. In fact, the only guy—not counting her father—who ever treated her right was Neil.   
  
Geeky, dull, reliable Neil.   
  
She cannot recall a time when he wasn’t there for her, and didn’t love her in his unconditional way.   
  
Granted, the level of his devotion was kind of creepy sometimes, but on the other hand…   
  
Maybe she should consider giving him a chance now. He may not be the man of her dreams—not even close—but at least he’s a safe bet.   
  
He'd never hurt her.   
  
She’s sick and tired of getting hurt, of being nothing but dust under people’s shoes.   
  
Things are going to change from now on. She’s going to take charge of her life, play by her own rules.   
  
She looks around, taking in her surroundings. She’s in a dimly lit basement, with candles here and there and strange symbols on the floor, drawn in chalk as far as she can tell, and there’s this odd odour, too. Herbs? Incense? She can’t be quite sure. She’s no expert in these matters.   
  
She doesn’t even know where she is. How did she get here? And what’s the purpose of all that… weird stuff? Is this some kind of joke? Another way to humiliate her?   
  
She takes a deep breath but then realises to her horror that it isn’t… quite the same   
  
_Breathing._  
  
It feels different… The oxygen reaches her lungs but she doesn’t seem to need it.   
  
That’s odd, she thinks. Everyone needs air. A person cannot survive without it.   
  
“Hey,” a familiar voice says, sounding somewhat strained. “You’re back.”   
  
She whips her head around to face the silhouette in the doorway.   
  
It’s Neil.   
  
“Was I gone?” she asks, suddenly not surprised that her voice sounds slightly different, too.   
  
Her gaze drifts towards those symbols again, and then it hits her, with the same sort of sobering clarity with which she saw the past few weeks flashing in front of her eyes.   
  
Neil. Of course.   
  
He'd do anything for her. He always said so. Looks like he kept his word.   
  
_“Anything.”_   
  
He even went so far as to bring her back from the dead.   
  
She died in that accident, didn’t she?   
  
Yes. That explains the silence, the lost time, and the lack of visible injuries after what must have been a tremendous impact.   
  
A malicious grin twists her lips as a plan begins to form.   
  
Why should she simply get on when she can just as easily get even?   
  
The rules have changed. The tables have turned.   
  
An eye for an eye. A life for a life. An opportunity too good to pass up.   
  
They won’t get away with what they’ve done. Not this time. Never again.   
  
"How are you feeling, Angela?" Neil's concerned voice asks. He’s still standing by the doorway. He sounds uncertain, as if he’s a little scared.   
  
She appreciates the irony. He and her father might just be the only ones who shouldn't be afraid.   
  
Well, all right, maybe that’s an exaggeration.   
  
She has no intention of going on a rampage. She’s not that evil, or as big a cliché.   
  
She just wants to settle the score.   
  
“Angela, are you all right?” Neil asks again, looking paler than before.   
  
She smiles the sweetest smile she can muster and replies, "I will be."


End file.
